Left Behind
by Arigatomina
Summary: Yaoi, 3x4. When Quatre's birth results in his mother's death, his father gives him away. Now, the original habitants of the planet his father's people are on have decided to take him as their own. But what if his sisters come looking for him? AU, Yaoi
1. Default Chapter

Category: AU, Yaoi, Gundam Wing  
Pairings: will be 3x4, other possibilities in notes after the part  
Warnings: slight angst, shonen ai, slight violence  
Author: Arigatomina  
Email: arigatoumina@hotmail.com  
Complete Archive: www.fanfiction.net  
  
Left Behind  
  
Part 1  
  
"Lord Winner, what are you going to do?"   
  
It was dark outside the cabin, and the man's shadow looked ominous as he paced back and forth. Silence filled the moment, then the woman inside gave another piteous cry. "You know," the man said, his voice colder than the night. "She's going to die."   
  
Flinching, the man moved away from his master, his eyes wide as he met the glaring brown gaze. There wasn't anything he could do to change his mind, but he couldn't believe the man's reaction. "Surely you don't blame *her*..."  
  
"No...I don't." The Winner Lord faced the door for a moment as his eyes filled with pain, then he curled his hands into fists. "But no one has ever survived the birth of one of *their* spawns. "  
  
"And the babe? Will you kill it?"  
  
"How could I? She begged me not too...not to blame the child..." He buried his face in his hands as a long moan sounded through the thin wood of the cabin. "I never should have brought her here. This is my fault. Damnit! The report said the heathens were of no threat to us...I never imagined they could..." His voice trailed off as he became aware of a sudden silence and his breath caught in his throat. "No..."  
  
Pushing the door open, the nurse shook her head. "I'm so sorry, sir. I did everything I could but..."  
  
"Oh God...Quatrina?!" He halted in the doorway as his eyes glazed upon sight of the blood-covered bed. "There's so much blood..."  
  
"Your wife was never made to have children like that, her body couldn't take the exit of the baby," the woman said softly, unfolding a white sheet as she spread it over the patient. "I'd hoped that it might be different on this planet, where the humans give birth on a regular basis. But it wasn't."  
  
The man didn't respond as he knelt beside the bed and laid his face against it. "Forgive me..."  
  
"She knew the risks, my lord. She wanted the child to be born."  
  
"A heathen's baby, planted in her through their black magic. They told us we could live in peace, and I believed them..."   
  
"She was barren, perhaps they thought they were doing a good thing by making her able to bear a child." The man in the doorway choked back his words as his lord turned tear-filled eyes on him. "I'm sorry."  
  
"The baby lives," the nurse said slowly, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked to her lord. "What should I do with it?"  
  
"Her baby..." Standing shakily, the man walked with unsteady steps to the door. "I don't want it."  
  
"It's a boy."  
  
"What?!" He stopped suddenly, his breath catching as his eyes flew around the room. Then the woman lifted something wrapped in a sheet and approached him slowly. "Is he...?  
  
"He looks like her," the woman said gently, pulling back the edge of the cover. "But he isn't healthy, he may not survive."  
  
"I can't...he does look like her." Brushing a finger over the pale cheek, he sighed and turned again, his back straightened resolutely. "He can stay here. There are plenty of families that would take him in if they don't know of his origin. I'm leaving this planet."  
  
"I'll take him, lord." The brown-haired man nodded as he left the cabin and he approached the nurse, gazing down at the baby. "I didn't think he'd take it, he cared so much for her."  
  
"Then he's yours," the nurse said, handing over the child as she moved back to the bed. "I'll take care of this before I return to the ship." The man nodded sharply, and she turned her back on him. "If you change your mind..."  
  
"I won't." Holding the child close, he walked to the door before pausing. "My wife has been wanting a boy."  
  
* * *  
  
He saw him coming from a distance, and he didn't move until he was certain no one was accompanying him. The forest was silent as the animals paused to watch the small boy, but this didn't last too long. Quatre had a way with animals and while he hadn't spoken, there was soon the sound of movement from the trees as they began to stir again. Waiting until the pale boy was beneath him, he hopped down.  
  
"Trowa!" The blonde boy smiled as he halted in surprise. He'd expected his tall friend to appear eventually, but he never knew exactly when it would happen. "I was hoping you'd be out here."  
  
"It's only been three days," the tall boy said, his monotone voice soft as he looked at the Quatre. "I hadn't expected you to come back so soon."  
  
"I know." Sighing, the boy dropped his eyes. His father was addicted to the powder Trowa's people made, and as much as it embarrassed him, he couldn't refuse the man. "He wants more, he's already out."  
  
"That's no good, Quatre. Is his mind gone?" His people traded with the boy's, but they knew the effects of the medicine. "It wasn't meant for this, it's a pain-reliever."  
  
"I'm sorry," Quatre said, his voice soft. "I told him you might not give us more."  
  
Trowa's green eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened as he looked over the boy's slender form. "He hurt you again...didn't he."  
  
"I'm fine," the boy said, frowning at the ground. "But I can't stay long. I understand if you can't give me more, I don't want to use our friendship like that."  
  
"Quatre, you know better." Pulling the bag off his shoulder, he opened the flap and withdrew a small cloth packet. "Here," he said, waiting until the boy raised pale blue-green eyes before handing it over. "I want to ask something of you."  
  
"Of course, if I can."   
  
"Stay with your mother tonight," Trowa said, his eyes boring into the shorter boy's.   
  
"Trowa..." His eyes wide, Quatre shook his head, gazing at the thick grass beneath his feet. "You know I can't. He'd never let me."  
  
"I can't hide how much I've given to your father, there might be trouble." Quatre nodded, but Trowa could tell he was upset. "I don't want you to be there if they decide to visit him."  
  
"I'm sorry," Quatre said, taking a step back. "I have to go back now, he'll get angry."  
  
"Quatre..." Stepping after him, Trowa laid a hand on the boy's shoulder, his fury rising at the soft cry as the blonde flinched away from him.  
  
"Trowa, he's my father." He didn't glance back as he walked away quickly, breaking into a run as he felt the need to turn. He knew his friend cared about him, but Trowa's people did things differently from his. They weren't living on a strange planet, they were indigenous. Their habits were no doubt different and Quatre was sure that was why *he* was the one sent to do the negotiations. He'd been the one speaking for the people since he was old enough to enter the forest on his own. His appearance wasn't threatening at all.  
  
Watching the boy disappear in the distance, Trowa's eyes narrowed. Birds flew from the branches over his head as he wheeled abruptly and struck the tree behind him with his fist, his breath coming in furious gusts. A minute passed before he calmed enough to return to his home, and his determination grew as his steps quickened. He knew very well what Quatre's people thought of them, they were seen as heathens because they'd never left the planet. He wasn't sure why they'd chosen to settle there anyway, but he was convinced *they* were the true heathens.  
  
"Trowa." Setting down the hammer he'd been using, Rashid straightened slowly, his dark eyes moving over the boy's furious face. "What's wrong?"  
  
The tall man was fixing the roof of one of the cabins, and Trowa waited until he'd climbed down the ladder before stepping to him. "I've given more taline to them," he said slowly, his head tilted a bit as he looked up at the man. "It must be tonight."  
  
"You're convinced he's addicted to it, then?" Looking over the boy's taut form, Rashid's eyes narrowed. "It's that boy, isn't it."  
  
"I wouldn't keep giving it to him, but if I don't he hurts Quatre. He doesn't deserve to live."  
  
The boy's hands were curled into fists and Rashid could tell he was beyond fury, which told him how serious the situation was. Trowa was among the calmest people he knew. "Are you certain it is not a deserved punishment?" He doubted it, but their policy was not to interfere with the people who had come to share the land. Their ways were obviously different, but both were known to punish their children if it was necessary.  
  
"No, Quatre is not an unruly child. He never was. I think..." Trowa's eyes narrowed to slits and his breath hissed between his clenched teeth. "He enjoys hurting him."  
  
"You don't know that for sure, do you?" Shaking his head, Rashid raised a large hand when the boy glared at him, forestalling his anger. "We'll pay him a visit this evening, but if there is no evidence, we will not interfere."  
  
"And if there is?" Trowa demanded, his breath speeding up as he waited.   
  
"Then we will do what we deem necessary. Trowa, have you told the boy what will happen if we don't like what we find?" He knew the answer from the speed with which those green eyes dropped and a wry smile curved his lips. "He may not be happy that you've hidden this from him. He is not one of us, he won't understand."  
  
"But he'll learn," Trowa said, his eyes glinting as he looked up again. Excitement was already coursing through him as he was sure they'd find evidence of the man's evil. "He knows I'll never hurt him."  
  
"I hope you're right," Rashid said softly, handing the hammer to the boy. "Finish this for me and I'll speak with the other elders."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"I envy the boy," the man remarked, lightly, smirking as Trowa flushed and looked away. Leaving him, he nodded to the few people who passed him as they went about their daily work. More slender than most of them, Trowa was often sought after and Rashid was eager to see the boy who had managed to capture him. He knew the elders had been interested in the one the strange people used to communicate with them, and he was certain they'd agree with Trowa. The boy was an excellent judge of character and it wasn't likely that he could be mistaken about this.   
  
* * *  
  
Although it wouldn't have stopped them if the man had lived in the village with the rest of his people, the three men were grateful that the cabin was set a considerable distance from any others. It wouldn't be the first time some of their people had communicated directly with the colonists, as they called themselves, so they knew their arrival would come as a shock. Approaching the small wooden structure, all three noticed how decrepit it was. Obviously the colonists 'superior technology' didn't extend to fixing their houses and Rashid wondered if the oddly patched roof didn't leak when it rained.  
  
"This should be interesting," Abdul whispered, looking around the area in front of the cabin. The grass was up to their knees and it didn't look as if there were any animals kept to trim it down.  
  
"You know, the last time I saw one of these people, they were living in weird metal things. I guess this is an improvement." Audah shook his head as he followed the tall man toward the small structure. "Are you really going to knock on the front door? What if he won't answer it?"  
  
"Quiet," Rashid said, his low voice smooth as he stepped to the door. Rapping on it, he waited as he could hear rustling movement inside. When the door was pulled open, he was surprised at how tall the man was. He didn't look that much different from them, and except for his odd, shiny clothing, he could have *been* one of them.  
  
"Well, if it isn't the Aborigines," the man drawled, his eyes moving over the three men. "I heard you might be stopping by." Stepping back, he waved a hand toward the interior, gesturing to the small metal table that stood near the fireplace. "I wasn't sure how many would be coming, but I got four chairs so I guess I did pretty good." Smiling, he waited until they'd come inside then shut the door.   
  
Watching the man, Rashid exchanged gazes with his companions at the way he played up his injured leg, limping noticeably. They knew he'd originally requested something to help his pain when he'd broken it, but that had been over two months ago. There was movement in the back of the room, and they turned as they caught sight of a young boy. Rashid's eyes glowed as he looked over the pale blonde hair and he knew this was the one Trowa was caught on. Wide eyes filled the boy's pale face and they could tell he was apprehensive by the way he flinched when his father turned to him.  
  
"Hop to it, boy," the man said in what sounded like a cheerful tone. He sat in one of the chairs and nodded when Quatre pulled the others out for the guests.  
  
As they were seated, the three men watched the man and boy carefully. The boy seemed tentative, but they couldn't tell if it was merely respect or fear. Looking to the man, Rashid cleared his throat. "The reason we came is because of the large amount of taline you've asked for."  
  
"Quatre mentioned that," the man nodded, his dark blue eyes glinting. "I'm afraid I have a low tolerance for pain and this leg of mine is taking its sweet time healing."  
  
"There's a danger in taline," Abdul said slowly. "Too much of it has bad effects on the mind and body, you can become attached to it."  
  
"Really?" Glancing to where Quatre stood near the doorway, the man raised his eyebrows. "I didn't realize. Well, I wouldn't worry too much about that. We aren't affected by drugs that much, it usually takes quite a bit to do us any good."  
  
"I see," Rashid said slowly. It was obvious to him that the man was lying through his teeth. One glance at the boy's lowered eyes told him so as the boy seemed embarrassed by his father's lies. "Well, we can no longer supply taline to you." The man's eyes narrowed suddenly and he saw his friends lean back a bit as they were prepared for his reaction. "Even if you are immune to the effects of the drug, our supply is limited. If your injury continues to plague you, we can give you something else."  
  
"That won't be necessary." The man stood suddenly, and he no longer made an attempt at cheer as he stared into Rashid's eyes. "I'm sure I can manage without the medicine. I appreciate your worry and the fact that you came in person. It's late though."  
  
"You are saying we should leave," Rashid murmured, nodding as he stood. "Fine. We'll go."  
  
The man didn't speak as he held the door for him, and they exited the room silently. Once outside, both Audah and Abdul turned to Rashid as the man stood, facing the door. "Well?" Abdul demanded, frowning. "We didn't learn anything from that. If he was truly addicted to the drug, he'd never have taken the news so well. He would have gone into a fury."  
  
"Wait," Rashid said, his eyes narrowed as he moved to the side of the cabin, listening carefully. "Unless I miss my guess, he's completely gone. He put on an act, but you could see through it, couldn't you?"  
  
"So what now? Wait until he goes into a rage then crash in there and kill him?" Audah sighed when Rashid didn't so much as glance at him and he met Abdul's brown eyes with a shake of his head. "We should get that kid out of there first, it's his father, after all."  
  
"Their people aren't going to react kindly to our killing one of theirs," the dark-haired man said softly. "We could just leave him to his own end, without that drug he'll either go insane or kill himself anyway."  
  
"Trowa never should have given him so much of it," Audah muttered. "He knew better than that. One dose would have been enough to last for weeks."  
  
"You know why he did." Nodding sharply as the sound of something striking the wall came, Rashid gestured towards the back of the cabin. "They always have a second door, you two get the boy out."  
  
"Are we taking him?" Abdul asked. He wasn't really surprised, but it would be a bold move for them.  
  
"I'll decide after we finish this." The two men moved quickly and Rashid stepped back to the door, knocking it down in one forceful blow. The man stood to the side of the table, which was laying on its side, and he wheeled around as the door hit the wall. As he'd expected, the man's eyes were marred by bright red lines as veins stood out against the blue.  
  
Staring at the intruder in fury, the man's eyelids peeled back as he glared. "What the hell are you doing?!" he cried, his voice hoarse. "Get out of here!" When the tall man didn't move, he jerked Quatre closer, his grip on the boy's shirt holding him off the floor. "What did you do?" he screamed, shaking the boy as he stared into very wide eyes.  
  
"Let him go," Rashid said, moving smoothly towards the man as he caught sight of Abdul and Audah slipping in through the doorway in the back of the room.  
  
"So it *was* you," the man growled, not paying Rashid any attention as Quatre shook his head. "Little bastard!" With inhuman strength, he flung the boy into the wall as he turned to the man standing near him. His hands curled into fists and he leapt forward suddenly.  
  
Pushing himself to his knees, Quatre's gasped as he saw his father being caught by the large man. "Don't! Please!"  
  
Audah stepped forward quickly and cut off the boy's view as Abdul picked Quatre up, holding the boy's arms to his sides. The boy struggled as he was carried from the room, but neither was willing to let him see what Rashid was about to do. Even if the man chose not to kill him, the end result would be the same. The drug had already eaten away at his mind. Leaving the cabin through the door in the back, they took him into the forest, not halting until they were out of hearing distance.  
  
Setting the boy on his feet, Abdul was prepared to grab him if he tried to bolt back to the cabin. He was caught off guard when the boy sank to the ground, drawing his knees up to his chest as he hid his face. The man didn't know what to say. The boy's father was most likely being killed at that very moment and there really wasn't anything that came to mind which would help to comfort the boy. A glance at Audah showed that he too was at a loss and they stood for what seemed like hours before they finally spotted Rashid. Both men were relieved when the tall man knelt in front of the boy.  
  
"I'm sorry," Rashid said, staring at the boy's bowed head. "There was no alternative."  
  
Quatre shook his head, not looking up as he hugged himself tighter. "It's my fault." Raising dull eyes, he met the man's concerned expression. "I saw what was happening to him but I just...kept getting him more..."  
  
"No." Sitting back on his heels, Rashid frowned at the boy. "Did the rest of your people see what was happening to him as well?"  
  
"Yes," Quatre said, his voice soft as he dropped his eyes. "But they were afraid to say anything to him. He got so angry."  
  
"And they left you with him? Knowing he'd take his anger out on you?"  
  
He blinked at the man in surprise. "They couldn't take me from him," he said, not hiding his confusion. "I'm his son." The man didn't seem to understand, and he sighed as he hugged his legs. "I *belong* to him."  
  
Abdul caught his eyes and Rashid nodded as he leaned forward and picked the boy up. "Not any more," he said, ignoring the boy's surprise. "We're taking you with us."  
  
"What? You can't." He knew there was no way he could fight the man, and he suddenly didn't feel like arguing. His father was dead. Staring at the dark cloth of the man's shirt, Quatre thought briefly of his mother and how happy she'd be when she heard of the news. Now she could get married again. She wouldn't be too upset if they couldn't find him, and he knew no one would search for long. Wrapping his arms around himself, he bowed his head as the man carried him as easily as if he were a little child. He'd never been close to any of the colonists and his eyes burned as he knew he could die without anyone mourning his death.  
  
The boy was silent as he carried him, and Rashid found himself wondering at the colonists, at the type of people who would leave a child to be abused by his own blood. It didn't make sense to him, and he knew the elders would be infuriated when they found out. It was indisputable proof that they weren't people his clan should be having any dealings with. Still, he could see why they'd done so in the past and he realized the benefits in using the boy as a go-between. They must have realized he wouldn't be seen as a threat. By using him, they'd fooled the 'heathens' into thinking them all like the boy.  
  
He looked so small in Rashid's arms, and Abdul found himself watching the boy's closed eyes. He'd seen the boy's beauty in the cabin, and it was obvious that even Trowa would have been attracted to him. But the man knew Trowa was pickier than that and he wondered how a boy could live with a father like that and not be tainted. Of course, he looked young, so he guessed it was possible that he hadn't spent enough time with the man. A glance found Audah also watching the boy and he smirked at him as the man looked away quickly. He could see that Trowa would have to stake his claim quickly if they were going to keep the boy with them.  
  
* * *  
  
Not having been allowed to go with the others, Trowa was waiting at the outskirts of the village and he stood as soon as he caught sight of movement. Seeing the form Rashid carried, his heart jumped into his throat and he strode to the man quickly, green eyes narrowed in fury. "Is he...?"  
  
"He's fine," Rashid said, noting the boy's concern. Quatre looked up and he set the boy on his feet, nodding when the blonde stared at Trowa.  
  
"T--Trowa?" Tears filled his eyes when the tall boy's hand touched his shoulder and he moved to him, hugging him tightly. "Trowa..."  
  
Touching the boy's soft hair, Trowa closed his eyes for a moment before looking up at Rashid. "Quatre?" The boy pulled back a bit as he met his gaze and he gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I have to talk to the elders now, but I'm going to leave you with my sister. I'll be back as soon as I can, all right?" The blonde nodded and he watched as he was led away, grateful to Catherine as the red-haired girl didn't ask any questions. He'd told her what he had planned, and she didn't seem to be reacting badly to it at all. Well, not after she learned of the boy's plight. She tended to be a bit over-protective.  
  
The four of them moved through the village silently, heading straight for the main building. Larger than the others, it stood out among the smaller cottages and cabins, and they were allowed entrance by the two men standing watch outside the tall doors. Five men sat on the carpet on the dais raised in the center of the room and they paused in front of them, bowing their heads out of respect. Leaving Trowa with the other two, Rashid stepped forward.  
  
"The man was beyond hope and has been eliminated. The people of their village knew what he had done, and they did nothing to protect his son from his violence." The men exchanged looks and he waited until he had their attention before continuing. "I have brought the boy back with us, he has no place among people who will not protect him."  
  
"And of him?" one of the gray-haired men asked. "What plans have you?"  
  
"I want him," Trowa said, taking a step away from Audah and Abdul as he looked to the elders. "I have had dealings with him in the past and he means a great deal to me."  
  
"And the boy?"  
  
"He sees me as his friend," Trowa answered. He knew they would accept nothing but the absolute truth.   
  
"As it was Rashid who both rescued and captured the boy," the man said, "he has first rights to him."  
  
The tall boy's blood ran cold and he couldn't make himself look at the man standing beside him. He had been prepared for this, but he hadn't allowed himself to think about Quatre being given to someone else. Still, he knew if he couldn't have the boy then Rashid would care for him gently. This didn't help the pain. "I realize this."  
  
"Then your case is ended with us. The boy belongs to Rashid. If he chooses to give him to you then that is his choice."  
  
Bowing, Trowa turned and left the building, still refusing to so much as glance at the tall man. It wasn't working at all. He realized he could never come to terms with Quatre not being his and he knew he only had one alternative. Rather than steal the boy, he bowed his head as he prepared himself for the painful prospect of asking the impossible. The man may not have emotional ties to the boy, but Trowa knew no one in his clan would willingly give up a treasure like Quatre.  
  
"Well, aren't you even going to ask me?" Rashid kept his expression clear as the boy slowly turned to look at him, green eyes shielded. "Bloody stubborn you are," he smirked. "Don't be a fool, Trowa, you know I wouldn't take him from you. You made your claim before I ever set eyes on him, even if you only made it to me. He's yours." Turning slightly, he nodded to Abdul and Audah, "And it's been witnessed."  
  
Trowa stared at the man for a moment before he suddenly realized what had happened. "But..."  
  
"I know," Rashid smiled, "Only a fool would give him to you, but I did it. Go on, Trowa. He's waiting for you to come back to him."   
  
"Thank you," Trowa finally said, his eyes intense as he stared at the man. "I owe you."  
  
"And you can be sure I'll collect," the man nodded, his dark eyes sparkling as his smirk widened. "Now go comfort that boy before your sister fills him with soup. She thinks that's the best remedy for everything." The boy nodded before turning and running back the way they'd come.  
  
"I can't believe you did that," Abdul murmured, watching his friend carefully. "I know men and women who would give their souls to have that boy. And what did you get for him? Nothing."  
  
"No, I got a debt," Rashid remarked, his eyes glinting. "And as I said, I'll collect."  
  
"You're not a very nice guy, are you?" Audah laughed, shaking his head. "I must say I envy you."  
  
"I would." Smiling again, Rashid turned and headed for his own home. It was true that he would have enjoyed having the boy as his own, but he was happier to see the gratitude in Trowa's eyes. The boy deserved someone like him, and Rashid was sure Trowa would never have been able to see him go to another. He'd been talking about Quatre for nearly a year and it was obvious that he more than *cared* for the boy. No, he was content with his 'sacrifice'.  
  
* * *  
TBC  
--notes--  
Another one?! Damn I'm good! Sorry...kinda lost it there. Anyway, I wanted to say I've changed my mind about multi-parters. I'm posting as many as I want. For those of you bothered by this, please, don't get mad. Just wait until the fic is finished before you read it. Then you won't have to wait for me. Anyway, what do you think? I should warn you, there may be some Rashidx3 later on maybe even Rashidx4. Yep, I'm insane, but him and Quatre...they were always close. And I think it would make an interesting threesome. Even in the series, him and Trowa loved Quatre, each in his own way. Who knows...but Trowa *does* owe him something now... ^__~ By the way, I know Quatre's real father acted OOC but it was necessary and his actions will play into this more later on. Feedback, onegai??  
  



	2. Part 2

Category: Yaoi, AU, Gundam Wing  
Pairings: 3+4/4+3, will be 3x4, maybe others  
Warnings: slight angst, reference to violence, sap, shonen ai  
Author: Arigatomina  
Email: arigatoumina@hotmail.com  
Complete Archive: www.fanfiction.net  
  
Left Behind  
  
Part 2  
  
Catherine glanced up from where she sat before the short table, and she raised an eyebrow at Trowa. The boy stared at her for a second, and his lips curled in a tiny smile that made her grin widely and turn to the blonde who sat on the floor across from her. He had been silent since she'd brought him into the cottage, but he had looked up when the door opened, and his expression was heartwarming as he seemed very happy to see Trowa.   
  
"Quatre," she said, still smiling, "Welcome to the family."   
  
The blonde boy looked at her, not sure what to make of her comment. She'd introduced herself when Trowa had left, but he'd heard of her a few times as the boy had spoken of his older sister. Then Quatre looked up as Trowa moved to stand next to him, and he accepted the tall boy's hand, letting himself be pulled to his feet.  
  
Drawing the slender boy into his room, Trowa gazed down at him, taking in how pale his face was. Quatre'd had a traumatic night, and he wasn't sure what to say to him. With a gentle hand, he turned the blonde and moved him so he sat on the edge of the bed, Quatre's dull eyes blinking at him. He crouched in front of the boy and gave what he hoped was a comforting expression. "Quatre," he said softly, "You're going to stay with me now."  
  
"Live with you?" The thought made him frown, and Quatre dropped his eyes, thinking about the tall boy's words. In truth, he didn't really know anything about Trowa's people except that they had rules that were made by a group of elders. Even this, he'd only heard mention of. Still, if they were anything like his own people, he could imagine how badly they would take Trowa's bringing an outsider into their home. "Is my presence...going to make you an outcast, Trowa? I wouldn't want that."  
  
He knew what the boy was worried about, and he almost smiled at the thought of his clan not welcoming the sweet boy with open arms. "Nothing like that. We may not relate to the colonists, Quatre, but you're different from them. And I know everyone will like you."  
  
"Why would they?" Quatre asked, frowning at the warm glint in those green eyes. He felt as if Trowa was hiding something from him, but that thought was dismissed quickly when a hand brushed his cheek and he smiled in spite of his worries.  
  
"Because you're sweet," Trowa murmured. His voice sounded calm, but his heart was nearly racing at the way Quatre turned his face just a bit, turning into the touch. It had been bold of him, and if he'd thought before-hand he probably wouldn't have touched him. But the blonde boy didn't seem to mind, and his fingers curled around a bit of soft hair. "And you're a kind person. My people will understand why you're here, you'll be welcome here."  
  
"Because of what happened..."  
  
Quatre turned his face away, and Trowa sighed, his hand dropping to the boy's shoulder, noticing that he flinched away. "You're hurt."  
  
Turning, Quatre winced from the boy's reproachful gaze. He shook his head before dropping his eyes again. "It's nothing. Just some bruises..." He knew how much his being hurt angered Trowa, and he didn't want the boy angry now. His mind was quick enough to provide him with pain-filled thoughts, his friend's anger wasn't needed.  
  
"Let me see," Trowa said, keeping his voice soft. The plural hadn't been lost on him, and he was careful to reign in his fury. He'd known the boy since they were both young, and he knew that the abuse hadn't started with the man's injury. There had been instances in the past when Quatre had come to him with bruises, and he still hadn't grown accustomed to the thought. But the boy never talked about it, and Trowa imagined he wouldn't want to now. "I have some cream I'd like to put on, if you'll let me." Quatre looked up, and he gave the boy a tentative gaze that didn't go with what he was feeling. "You aren't afraid of me, are you?"  
  
"No! I...well, it's embarrassing," Quatre admitted. The tall boy leaned back, giving him room as he undid the straps holding his dark shirt together. Refusing wasn't an option at all, and he was warmed by the knowledge that Trowa wanted to help him. There was comfort knowing his friend despised his pain. He dropped his eyes once he'd removed the shirt, not wanting to see Trowa's reaction as he usually hid the bruises as well as he could. He felt vulnerable with them revealed.  
  
The boy was so pale that the purplish-gray splotches looked worse than they were, but Trowa's teeth clenched as he looked at them. He didn't let his gaze rest long, however, as he could tell his silence had Quatre nervous. Reminding himself that they mostly lay on the boy's arms and that as injuries they were very minor, he managed to rid himself of some of the protective outrage. He stood slowly, and stepped to the shelf lining one wall of the small room, his hands passing over various jars before gripping one lightly. "Catherine mixed this," he murmured, giving a soft smile when the boy looked at him.  
  
"Really? Do all the women know how?" Quatre relaxed at Trowa's nod, and he managed to hold still when the tall boy climbed onto the bed behind him. Then he blinked in surprise as very gentle hands touched him. The callouses felt rough, but they didn't press hard at all, and he smiled, ducking his head.  
  
"You're soft." The blonde boy turned to look back at him, and Trowa smirked at the confusion. He obviously seemed to take the comment as some sort of insult. "Your skin, it's soft and smooth. Delicate."  
  
Blushing, Quatre gave a small laugh and turned away, shaking his head at the boy's compliment. "You're so nice to me, Trowa. You're always so nice. I've never met anyone who treats me like you do." His smile faded a bit, but he sighed with something kin to content as the boy's warm hands rubbed over his arms, the cream smoothing out so he couldn't feel it.  
  
"Quatre...that's because I care about you."   
  
Trowa's gaze was solemn when he turned, and Quatre gave a smile, shaking his head again. "You're my friend," he said, his own voice just as solemn.  
  
The word bothered him, somehow, but Trowa nodded. He was the boy's friend, but his feelings were much more than that. Still, he knew he'd have to move slowly if he didn't want to overwelm the boy. It wasn't as if he could just come out and tell him that they were mates now, he was sure Quatre would have a difficult time if the news were sprung on him that quickly. But these were thoughts he'd already entertained, and he pushed them aside as he realized the boy he'd wanted for so long was there with him. "Are you tired, Quatre?"  
  
He sighed, nodding quickly. "Yes. I feel like I could curl up somewhere and just sleep for days." It was partially true, he did want to collapse in a secluded spot, but his nerves were still tense, and he imagined he wouldn't be sleeping very well. "Is this your room?" Quatre asked. He remembered that the building hadn't been very large, and he doubted if there were any extra rooms.  
  
"Yes," Trowa said slowly. "There's room for both of us." The blonde frowned, and he wondered if the very thought of sharing a bed with him was enough to bother the boy. If so, then their future would be a very difficult one.  
  
"I could sleep on the floor, I don't mind." It was kind of the boy to offer to share, but he'd slept on the floor before. Then he blinked at Trowa as his friend stared at him, expression unreadable. He had the sudden impression that he'd said something wrong.  
  
"No," Trowa said sharply. "Does the thought of me touching you bother you, Quatre?" The boy looked surprised, but he had to ask. If so, then he'd sleep on the floor himself.  
  
"Trowa. Of course not. Why would it?" The tall boy seemed to relax, and Quatre laid a hand on his arm, tilting his head a bit as he looked at him. "I just don't want you to be...put out. I mean, it's your home. It's kind of you to offer to share your bed, but you don't have to."  
  
"I want to," Trowa admitted softly, his eyes shining as he ran a hand over the slender boy's arm. Quatre didn't seem at all bothered by it, and his lips twitched. He bent, moving his legs over the bed as he pulled off his shoes, and he was relieved when the boy beside him did likewise. Taking them, he set them at the foot of the bed, his heart racing when Quatre stood easily. Then he pulled back the cover and waited.  
  
He wasn't sure why Trowa didn't get into the bed, but he thought that maybe he wanted to be near the door. It didn't make any difference to him, and he stepped forward, climbing in himself. His friend seemed to be acting odd to him, but Quatre reminded himself that he'd never seen the boy in his own home. Trowa joined him, and he smiled when the cover was pulled up slightly.  
  
"Can I..." Trowa sighed, knowing his hesitation was going to make the boy wonder. But he couldn't help it. As far as physical contact went, they'd shared an occasional hug, and that was all. He felt a need and a desire to touch the boy, and he wanted Quatre to get used to it, wanted him to like it as well. "Can I hold you?"  
  
Trowa sounded so tentative, and Quatre couldn't think if he'd ever heard that tone from him. But the question was an easy one to answer and he scooted towards the boy, smiling when strong arms wrapped around his back. It had been awkward lying on the small bed with so much space between them, and Trowa's arms were comforting. The boy didn't speak, and Quatre ducked his head, letting it rest on Trowa's shoulder as he closed his eyes.  
  
Trowa was thinking about Quatre's smile, and the fact that the boy had moved into his arms easily. He could barely feel the soft breath that reached his neck, and he wished he'd taken off his shirt, one of his hands being pressed to soft skin beneath the blanket. Moving slowly, he let his arm curve upwards, his fingers brushing Quatre's thick hair. It was dark in the room, but he could imagine the color, pale gold. The boy had beautiful hair, and Trowa sighed, his fingers curling around the strands.  
  
"I had a dream like this once..."  
  
Trowa blinked at the soft whisper. He'd thought the boy asleep, and he wondered what Quatre thought of his hand resting on his head. Then the boy spoke again.  
  
"I was so sad and alone and then...you were there, Trowa." With his eyes closed, he could feel the boy's head lift, but he didn't look up at him, not wanting to break the embrace as he moved an arm over the tall boy's waist. "And you hugged me, like this, so warm. It was the most wonderful dream I ever had..."  
  
His heart was soaring, and he couldn't bring it back down. He knew the boy cared about him, Quatre seemed to care about everyone though. The thought of the blonde dreaming about him was enough to make his breath speed up. "You never said you dreamt of me."  
  
"It was just a dream," Quatre whispered. He was unsure, the boy's voice had sounded strange to him. "You really are the only friend I've ever had, the only one who ever seemed to care about me. I know I take it for granted, but I do thank you, Trowa."  
  
The word was grating on his ears, and he was tempted to tell the boy he wasn't his 'friend.' But he couldn't do that, not when that soft voice had been so sincere. Pushing onto an elbow, he nudged Quatre's chin up so he could look at the boy. Then, he slowly leaned down and brushed his lips over Quatre's in the lightist of carresses. "I do care, Quatre. But please, don't thank me for caring about you." He didn't want the boy's gratitude, he wanted him to return the feeling. "Sleep now." The blonde boy gave him a small smile and nodded. Pulling him close again, he let himself sleep as well.  
  
* * *   
  
He was so beautiful, his face relaxed as he slept, and Trowa's gaze was centered on those parted lips, so soft. They seemed to beg to be kissed, and his body was warmed by the thought, his own cheeks flushing a bit. It really wasn't like him to be so attracted to someone, but he'd always felt that way toward Quatre. Since he'd reached the age where his body had matured, the boy had been the only one he'd longed for. And now the object of both his affection and his lust lay sleeping in his bed and he wanted nothing more than to kiss him. A real one, not a tempting brush like the one he'd managed the night before, he wanted to taste the boy. He shook his head, sighing at himself as his hand swept Quatre's bangs away from his forehead.  
  
Pale blue green eyes snapped open immediately, and the boy tensed in a reflexive move. Then he blinked as he recognized Trowa and gave a tiny smile, pushing himself up. "Trowa."  
  
"Good morning," Trowa said smoothly, leaning back as he'd been hovering over the boy. Quatre was rubbing at his eyes, and he smiled at how cute the action looked.  
  
"Did I sleep in?" Quatre asked, fighting a yawn. He was worried that he might have. It would be horrible to make a mistake so soon in his life with Trowa's people, but the tall boy was shaking his head and he sighed with relief.   
  
"We aren't late for anything. Are you hungry?" Trowa got off the bed, and he watched as Quatre did the same, his mouth curving into a smirk when the blonde boy immediately made the bed. "I could have done that," he commented, but Quatre shrugged. Then he noticed the boy was leaning over his shirt where it lay, still on the floor where it had been dropped. "Wait." He crossed the room, pulling a long-sleeved shirt out off a shelf. It was white, and clean, but he knew it would be long on the boy. As Quatre accepted it, he reminded himself to find some clothes for the boy since his own would be too big.  
  
Minutes passed before the silence got to him, and Trowa moved to stand in front of the blonde who stood, staring down at his folded arms. "Quatre, what's wrong?"  
  
"I'm a horrible person..."  
  
The soft voice reached him as the boy didn't look up, and Trowa's eyes widened. "What? Of course you're not. Why would you say that?" Moist eyes raised to him, and his throat clenched a bit at Quatre's pitiful expression.  
  
"I...should be mourning my father. But...I just want to forget him! I want to forget what happened...and I shouldn't want that. But I keep thinking about my own future like what happened to him doesn't matter."   
  
The boy looked as if he was about to burst into tears, and Trowa gripped his shoulders in a firm hold. "Forget it," he said sharply. "If it pains you, think of it as a favor to me. It's all right to forget what happened and to live your own life." The words came from his own mind, but he quickly thought of anything that might make the boy feel better. He hated the man who'd hurt him, and just thinking about his death made him glad inside. But he knew this would be a horrible thing to share with the stricken boy. "What happened was better for him, Quatre. It spared him an enormous amount of pain. Remember that."  
  
"He was...in pain," Quatre whispered, his eyes blinking away the dampness that had risen to them. Trowa's warm eyes were comforting, and he held the boy tight as strong arms wrapped around him. Time passed slowly as he let himself be swamped by the embrace, then he forced his eyes to open. "I guess we're probably late now," he said softly, embarrassed by his display of weakness. "Do you cook breakfast?" He almost smiled as Trowa looked surprised, and he released the boy, stepping back. "I don't even know your family," he admitted. "Do you live with them? Or just your sister?"  
  
"My parents died years ago," Trowa said, shaking his head. Quatre's expression was horrified, and he blinked in surprise.  
  
"Oh Trowa...I'm so sorry. I didn't know."  
  
"No, it's all right. It was a long time ago. Now, it's just Catherine and me." The boy still looked guilty, and he took his hand, his fingers curling around it as he tugged Quatre toward the door. "Come on. Catherine loves to cook, and I'm sure she has a huge breakfast waiting for us."   
  
Sure enough, the table was set with a number of platters and Quatre stared at it all, nearly forgetting to greet the red-haired girl who sat before it. The table was short enough that it didn't call for chairs, and Trowa sank down, pulling him till they sat next to each other across from Catherine.   
  
"Well, good morning, you two. Quatre, you have to be the prettiest boy I've ever seen, to look that nice when you first get up." The blonde boy stared at her, and Catherine laughed at the dark blush that reached his cheeks. Trowa was smirking at the boy, and she sighed at the way her brother's eyes centered on him.   
  
* * *  
  
After mere minutes of eating, Quatre sighed and set down the fork. He hadn't recognized many of the things offered, but what he had eaten had been delicious. Still, he'd only been able to eat a small amount, and he could tell from the way the other two ate that his own display seemed picky. "I'm sorry, but I can't eat any more."  
  
"Already?" Catherine asked, looking up in surprise. The boy had barely eaten anything by her estimates, and it was suddenly obvious why he was so slender. "You didn't eat much."  
  
"I know," Quatre said, glancing at his plate. "I'm just not used to having so much offered. I usually don't eat that much."  
  
"Well, I'll just have to fix that. A few weeks eating here and you'll be a new person. Just look at Trowa, he used to be the scrawniest thing. All it takes is good food, I'll fatten you up in no time."   
  
Trowa was used to his sister, and he glanced at Quatre, wondering how the boy was taking being teased. The blonde was looking at him, and Quatre blushed when he turned to meet his gaze. Curious, Trowa was debating on whether or not to ask when Catherine spoke again and he turned to face the girl.  
  
"What are your plans for today?" Catherine asked, leaning forward as she'd pushed her plate to the side.  
  
"Well, I thought I'd take Quatre around, introduce him to people. He should know the others."  
  
Quatre paled at the boy's words, his mind flying. What would they think of him? He was a colonist, after all, and he knew how the colonists felt about Trowa's people. The tall boy had assured him that they would embrace him, but he had trouble believing that. Not that he doubted Trowa, but he had no experience with people who accepted those who were different.  
  
"I'm going to do some hunting later, Quatre could go with me if he wants." The blonde boy's eyes snapped to her, and Catherine gave him a reassuring smile before looking to Trowa. "You promised to help Brenton work on his corral, so Quatre might as well go with me. It's better than being stuck here."  
  
Gazing at the uncertain boy, Trowa wrapped his arm around Quatre's shoulders. "Go ahead. There's no reason for you to be left here by yourself."   
  
Quatre didn't want to disappoint his friend, and he nodded slowly. "Okay," he said, hoping his expression didn't reveal his misgivings. It would be a chance to get to know Trowa's sister, and he wanted the girl to like him. "But, I've never hunted before, so I don't know if I'd be much help."  
  
"You've never hunted?" Catherine asked, her eyes wide. "Then what do you eat?"  
  
"We have gardens, we don't eat meat much. Not that we can't," he added, worried that she might take offense. He didn't want her to think he was insulting their food. "We just don't get it often is all."  
  
"Well, it's no wonder you eat like a rabbit," Catherine said, shaking her head. "Don't you worry, Quatre. I'll teach you to hunt. It's not that hard at all once you learn."  
  
It was nice to see the two of them talking, but Trowa's attention was focused more on the boy beside him. His arm was still resting on Quatre's shoulders, and he was relieved at how comfortable he seemed. He was aware that Quatre had never so much as hinted an attraction for him, but he had hope for them since the boy had yet to repel his touch. What little he knew of the boy's people was lacking in that department, and he worried about how Quatre would feel about their status as mates.   
  
His own people tended to be attracted to either one sex, or both, and they were open and honest about it. There had never been a problem within the clan, as there were enough male and female mates for plenty of children to be born. Teenagers simply declared their feelings when they reached the age, and their declarations were accepted, members of the unchosen sex dismissing them as potential mates. But he knew that the colonists were most likely different and his heart quailed at the thought that Quatre might be attracted to females.   
  
The boy belonged to him in the eyes of the clan, but he knew that he'd never be able to keep him if Quatre asked for release. If the boy were repelled, he would have no choice but to accept it and release his claim, even if it killed him. His thoughts were broken as the object of his perusal turned and smiled at him, and his body seemed infused by a warm melting feeling. Returning the small smile, he brushed the bangs off Quatre's forehead so they couldn't shadow the boy's lovely eyes. He didn't see the penetrating look Catherine was giving them, and the girl's rapt attention went by unnoticed.  
  
* * *  
  
Quatre's mind was filled with all of the faces he'd seen, the names he'd been given that would take forever to get straight. It was amazing to him, but Trowa's prediction had proved to be true. Every person he'd been introduced to had been respectful, even kind to him. The village itself also drew his attention, and he marveled at it. Each family had a separate house, the same as with his own people, but theirs were set on grass rather than dirt. His own home had been built away from the others but he knew the colonists preferred not having weeds surrounding them. Yet Trowa's people had short grass, barely inches tall, and he'd seen sheep and other animals that he didn't recognize. They'd been roaming about the village, just eating as they wished. It amazed him mostly, because the animals he'd seen hadn't defecated at any time, and he couldn't imagine being able to train a creature so well.  
  
Catherine's call made him look up, and he took the hand the girl extended to him, grateful to her help as he climbed up the tree after her. Trowa had taught him to climb, but it wasn't something he did often enough to be good at. The boy had left him earlier, going to help his neighbor with the corral, and Quatre had found himself with Catherine. Despite his worries, it seemed the girl was easy natured, and it wasn't long before he'd found himself fishing. It had ended up easier than he'd imagined as all he'd had to do was wait until he spotted one and then stab it with the spear the girl had given him. The spear itself had been a bit unwieldy at first, but he'd caught the hang of it. Now, Catherine had said she'd show him how to spot the animals they hunted, the bow and arrows she carried the preferred weapons.  
  
The limb he was on supported him easily, and he adopted a stance similar to Catherine's as he crouched. The forest seemed quieter now that he was watching for animals, and minutes passed in silence. Then, he felt as if he were being watched, and he turned slowly, his eyes meeting Catherine's gaze as he found the girl staring at him.   
  
"Are you always so quiet?" Catherine asked gently, her eyes soft. The boy had barely spoken since Trowa had left, and she knew about his past. She imagined that he'd been taught, roughly, not to speak out, and the thought made her want to protect the boy. As it was, her answer was silence as Quatre nodded, and she decided to prod him into talking. "Tell me, Quatre. How do you feel about my brother?"  
  
"He's my friend," Quatre said quickly, nodding sharply. "He's my best friend." He frowned as the girl laughed suddenly, and he blinked in confusion.  
  
"No wonder Trowa looked so worried this morning. You're calling him your friend." The boy was staring at her, his confusion obvious, and she shook her head. "Has Trowa said anything to you about your future?"  
  
"He said I would live with him," Quatre nodded, wondering why his answer wasn't enough as the girl shook her head again.  
  
"That's not what I meant," Catherine said. "Quatre, have you ever been attracted to someone?" The blush that came to those pale cheeks told her no, and the boy seemed shocked that she would ask. "Are you attracted to Trowa?"  
  
"Please," Quatre said sharply. He didn't understand why the girl would say such a thing, and he wondered if she was trying to find fault in him. "Trowa is my only friend..." The girl looked furious, and his eyes widened warily as he wondered what she was angry about. He wondered if he should have kept quiet.  
  
"Trowa's a bloody fool," Catherine muttered, glowering at nothing specific. "I can't believe he didn't tell you. Quatre, Trowa made a claim on you. Do you know what that means?" The boy stared at her with wide eyes, and he shook his head. "That means he has chosen you as his mate." Quatre was still staring at her, and she leaned forward a bit. "It means no one else may touch you, sexually, without Trowa's permission. Do you understand what I'm saying?"  
  
Quatre shook his head, horrified that Trowa's sister would try to fill him with such lies. He knew the boy, knew him well enough that he trusted him completely, and he'd never believe what she was saying. He didn't want to argue with her, didn't want her to hate him, but for her to say that Trowa would let people have sex with him was going too far. "Trowa wouldn't do that," he said, his voice dropping as his anger grew. "He would *never* let people hurt me. He doesn't like it when I'm hurt. He cares about me..."  
  
"No..." She closed her eyes, feeling like the biggest fool in the world, and she knew she'd only managed to confuse the boy even more. Worse, she'd also angered him and she wanted them to be friends. "Quatre, you've misunderstood. By claiming you, Trowa has made you his mate. His alone. It means that no one but him may touch you, and the same for you. Trowa is your mate, so no one can touch him either." The boy was blinking slowly, and she held her breath, hoping he'd gotten what she was saying.  
  
"You mean...are we...married then?"  
  
Catherine bit her lip lightly, her eyes narrowing. "I don't know what that means," she muttered, wishing she did. "But as mates, you'll stay together unless one of you proves to be a bad mate." Her voice trailed off as she knew she shouldn't have said anything. She couldn't help but curse Trowa for not having explained it to the boy the night before, but she simply couldn't let Quatre be taken as a mate without knowing what it meant. It wasn't fair to the boy, and it could lead to heartache.  
  
Quatre was staring at the ground below him. He was stuck on the thought that Trowa had decided this, meaning Trowa wanted him as a mate. It sounded like marriage to him, but the marriages he'd seen involved men and women, never two boys. And as mates, they'd have sex. This was driving him crazy, as he'd only heard the word in passing and then, too, it had been related to a man and woman who'd been married. It was confusing to him, and he wondered how two men could mate, have sex. But then, he didn't know what the word and act were, so he found no answers. Then, his suddenly slow mind shoved away thoughts about the unknown as he focused on what the girl had said last.  
  
He and Trowa would stay together unless one of them proved to be a bad mate. It was impossible not to worry, even though he knew Trowa cared about him. There was no way the boy would hurt him. Still, if he was a bad mate, he'd have to leave, and the thought hurt more than any physical pain could. He didn't even know what made a person a good or bad mate, and he wondered if it wasn't the sex thing again. It was so confusing, and he closed his eyes, shaking his head at how lost he was in it all.  
  
Seeing the boy's stricken expression, Catherine wanted to slap herself, hard. She knew Trowa would kill her when he found out what she'd done, and she realized it wasn't her place to tell Quatre. But she couldn't help it, it was *wrong* to take him without telling him first and he had a right to know. She still wanted to crawl off and find a rock somewhere to hide under in the hopes that the blonde boy would forget what she'd said. "Quatre, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."  
  
"No," Quatre whispered, looking at her with dull eyes. "I thank you for telling me. I...need to think now." With a clumsiness that was odd, even for him, he slipped out of the tree. Then he walked away, aiming for the river they'd fished in earlier.  
  
A minute passed as Catherine stared after the boy, her mind frozen on how he'd swayed with each step. Then she shook herself roughly, jumping from the tree. Straightening her back, she steeled herself for what was to come as she knew she had to tell Trowa what she'd done.  
  
* * *  
  
Trowa walked very quickly, his legs not hampered by the fear that clenched around his heart. He was furious at Catherine, but the girl had been so obviously torn up about her mistake that he couldn't even yell at her. Now, he was terrified at what would happen if Quatre was repulsed by what she'd told him. He'd thought to move slowly, get the boy accustomed to being touched by him and hopefully get him to like it. Now, his plans were thrown as Quatre was warned, the suddenness no doubt a shock to him. Then he halted as he spotted the boy.  
  
He was sitting at the edge of the river, his legs drawn up. Trowa stared, hating how vulnerable the boy looked, and he suddenly didn't care if his own heart was about to be ripped as he stepped forward quickly. Within seconds, he was at the boy's side, and he drew Quatre to him, hugging the slender frame.  
  
Quatre flinched as strong arms suddenly caught him, then he gasped, realizing who it was. His arms moved slowly, but he returned the hug, pressing his face to Trowa's chest and swallowing sharply. "I'll be a good mate," he promised, his whisper soft. "I'll do whatever you want if I can stay with you, Trowa." He was the only one who cared about him, and Quatre didn't want to think what would happen if he lost him. He'd have no where to go, he'd have nothing if he lost his only friend. It was true what he'd said, he'd do whatever it took. If Trowa wanted him as a mate, meaning sex, then he'd do it. He wasn't afraid, after all, since he knew Trowa would never hurt him, so it couldn't be bad.  
  
His eyes closed in pain, and Trowa felt horrible, hearing those adamant words. "Quatre...being a mate isn't the same as being a slave. I'd never make you do *anything* you didn't want to do...I swear."  
  
Tilting his head back, Quatre actually managed a small smile, and he blushed a little. "I know that, Trowa. You care about me." The words, the fact, the constant reminder had served to keep him going for years, and he still used it. Just knowing that made him feel confidence. "What I want to do is stay with you. For as long as I can."  
  
Trowa stared down at the boy, his mind awash at how beautiful he was even as his heart soared at Quatre's words. His muscles tensed as he suddenly made up his mind; he'd find out now if they had a future. Pulling the boy even closer, he lowered his head, his mouth moving over Quatre's gently. The boy didn't push him away, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing past those sweet lips as he finally tasted him. As the boy still didn't fight him, he let himself fall into the kiss, and his hands moved over Quatre's back, pressing the boy against him.  
  
It was oxygen that brought him back, the lack of it, and Trowa opened his eyes slowly, staring at the boy he held. Quatre was limp against him, and the boy's mouth was open as he breathed quickly, his eyes closed. He swallowed painfully, then forced his voice to work. "Quatre...? Did you...feel anything?"  
  
Blinking hazily, Quatre looked up at him, his eyes very wide. "Trowa. That was...wonderful. I never imagined that, I didn't know..." He was caught off guard, but he still smiled when Trowa suddenly laughed, the boy's expression so different from any he'd seen on him. Then he was being hugged again, and he pressed his cheek to Trowa's chest, his arms slipping around the tall boy's waist as he sighed in utter contentment.  
  
TBC  



	3. Part 3

Category: Yaoi, AU, Gundam Wing  
Pairings: 3+4/4+3, will be 3x4  
Warnings: short part, shonen ai, naiveté, sap  
Author: Arigatomina  
Email: arigatoumina@hotmail.com  
Complete Archive: www.geocities.com/arigatomina  
  
Left Behind  
  
Part 3  
  
The grass was still soft, but damp as the temperature had dropped slightly. Quatre had turned away from the river, an arm curved around his neck as the boy leaned against him. Trowa knew it was getting late, the sun had been down for quite a while, but he'd been loath to move. The blonde boy was hanging on him, and he brushed his palm against Quatre's back, reminding himself that they weren't dressed for a cold night. Besides, Catherine was bound to be worried and as much as he would have liked to stay still, he knew better. Quatre shivered and looked up when he trailed finger over the back of the boy's neck.  
  
"We should go," Trowa murmured.   
  
"I know," Quatre sighed. He turned his face back against Trowa's chest for a moment then glanced over his shoulder, watching the dark water. "But I like it here. Just us, nothing else matters." It was so quiet, and he listened to the sound of the water moving. They hadn't spoken in so long that he'd had plenty of time to think and simply enjoy the solitude. He wasn't alone, but he felt as if Trowa were a part of him he'd been missing, rather than another person. It didn't make sense, but he knew what he felt. "Trowa, before we go back, can you tell me what sex is?"  
  
His body tensed at the abrupt question, and Trowa's arms loosened as Quatre moved to sit beside him. Bright eyes watched him expectantly and he knew the boy was willing to pay attention to what he would say. He felt as if he were about to give a lesson and his cheeks grew hot at the thought. This was one more thing he hadn't counted on, and he would much rather have preferred to wait until the act. He knew the motions, but they sounded so crude there was no way he could repeat them to Quatre. Sweet language was not his strong point; he couldn't think of any words pretty enough to explain without scaring the boy.  
  
A silent minute passed before Quatre's face fell and he dropped his eyes. "The reason I asked was because Catherine said we were married. My father was married. I overheard him once, he said a marriage is...hell...if the sex is bad." Trowa was staring at him and he flushed, looking away again. He didn't like repeating anything he'd heard unless he knew it was true. "But my mother once said that marriage was a communion of souls; two joined as one. I never thought about it, and she stopped saying things like that years ago, but...I was just wondering which is right. Or if they both are."   
  
Staring down at the boy, Trowa's mouth went dry. Quatre's words were sweet and romantic at the same time as they were true. He'd heard the first himself before, and that was one of the main reasons mates were not final until the matings were consummated. "Sex," Trowa said softly, his cheeks growing warm, "is like a communion. It's the consummation, an act that joins mates together. After that, they are mates in fact as well as claim." Pale blue-green eyes were gazing up at him, and he brushed Quatre's bangs out of his face. "There's no rush," he said quickly.  
  
It was obvious to him that Trowa was trying to explain, but Quatre's forehead creased as he frowned. "But what *is* it? What do mates do?"  
  
"Mates..." Trowa frowned, cursing himself for not being better prepared for the conversation. "Well, they kiss," a dark blush marred his cheeks, "and they...touch each other. Make each other feel good."  
  
Quatre blinked for a moment, one slender eyebrow raised in doubt, then he frowned. "It doesn't sound like much." A small sigh escaped his lips and he glanced away for a moment before blinking and turning his gaze back to Trowa. "How do mates know what feels good? Are there certain ways that mates touch each other?"  
  
It was a golden opportunity to exploit the boy's innocent willingness, but Trowa knew he would never do such a thing. Quatre trusted him. "It's instinct," he said slowly, "you go by what you like. You'll know when the time comes. I touch you so it feels good for me, it's the same idea."  
  
"I do like the way you hold me," Quatre said softly. His earlier apprehensions seemed needless now and he was curious, almost eager to try. He liked the thought of making Trowa feel good. It would be his way of repaying the boy at least in part for how wonderful he'd been toward him. His promise to be a good mate had been sincere and he was intrigued by the idea of their being married. "When can we do that?"  
  
Trowa's eyes widened at the boy's eager expression and he had to wet his lips as his mouth suddenly went dry. "Tonight." He blurted the word before he could stop himself, but Quatre nodded. Taking the boy's hand, he pulled him to his feet, unwilling to give him a chance to change his mind. It would be rushing things, but all of his other plans had already been thrown away. And he could always stop if Quatre *did* change his mind later. No matter what, he was sure he'd be able to wait for the boy to be ready.   
  
* * *  
  
His sister was psychic, that was the only explanation Trowa could come up with. He'd been surprised to find the small house empty, dinner laid out with a small flower on the table. She always left a daisy when she slept at her friend's house. It was a bit embarrassing to think that she'd known, but it was also convenient. Not that the walls were so thin she would hear them if she were home, but he wouldn't have to hide his plans during the meal. As it was, Quatre ate quickly, barely consuming anything. He reminded himself to feed the boy more often, but the thought didn't last long. They ate in silence, clearing the table together as he showed the blonde boy the small kitchen area. Then they retired to the bedroom and Trowa nearly flinched at the small click as he pushed the door shut behind them.  
  
He'd had plenty of offers since completing puberty, but this was the first time Trowa wondered if he should have taken one of them up. Experience would have come in handy right now. Quatre was standing near the bed, pale blue-green eyes watching him expectantly, and he'd never felt so foolish. People were open about their preferences, but not about the actual act. He planned to be the dominant in their mating. Did that mean he had to explain everything? Having Quatre as his mate was something he'd thought about, imagined, but he hadn't counted on the boy's questions. It was natural to want to know what he was about to do. Explaining would completely ruin his confidence, though, not to mention how embarrassed he was. Trowa didn't get embarrassed often, but his face felt hotter and it didn't have much to do with lust. The blonde boy simply waited, a small smile curving his lips.   
  
"Trowa?" Green eyes dropped away from him and Quatre frowned when the tall boy sat on the bed and removed his shoes. Trowa had seemed eager enough before they'd come back to the house, but he seemed to be having second thoughts now. Quatre sat beside him, mimicking his movements. "What's wrong, Trowa?"   
  
Turning sharply, Trowa grimaced. "I've never done this." The boy blinked at him and that small smile actually widened.  
  
"Oh. But you know how, right?" His friend blushed. Quatre couldn't remember ever seeing Trowa blush, but it was reassuring somehow, nice to know he wasn't the only one unsure of himself. "I thought you were hesitating because of me. We don't have to do anything if you don't want to."  
  
His mouth opened for a second before Trowa let out a small laugh, his cheeks cooling a bit. All his worries about rushing the boy and Quatre was offering to let him wait until he was ready. It was too much. "I adore you," he said, shaking his head. The boy beamed at the compliment and he leaned toward him, his eyes glinting when Quatre met his lips halfway. Hands curled in his shirt and he moved his arms around the boy's slender back, eyes closed as he kissed him.   
  
* * *  
TBC  
--notes--  
Guess what's in the next part? Ah, so many psychics out there...yes, you're right, it's a lemon. Can't get anything past you, can I? Heh! I'll try to make it a good one. I just hope I can keep it sexy rather than just sappy. It's hard to dry up the sap with such an innocent pair as these two. ^__^ 


End file.
